Id, Ego, Superego
by Mrs.Scott323
Summary: Freud meets Jibbs, inspired by his theory on human drives.


_**Sorry, no new OFAS update. This oneshot was inspired by the latest Jibbsfest. Talking about Freud made me remember my classes and this came out of it.**_

**_ Enjoy!_**

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**Id** _In Freud's theory, a term for the most primitive reactions of human personality, consisting of blind strivings for immediate biological satisfaction regardless of cost._

She watched him from across the room. Watching him as he guided the other woman across the room, his hand on the small of her bare back, just like he used to do with her.

The woman leaned closer to him, whispering something in his ear and he laughed. She fixed his tie and let her fingertips slide over his jaw line. Even from this distance she felt a bit uncomfortable with the intimate gesture.

That used to be them.

She remembered running her fingers through his hair, curling the hairs on the base of his neck as he let his hands run over all the sensitive places on her body, kissing them as he went past them. Linking his fingers under his chin, feeling the slight stubble from a few days without shaving. The scruff feeling on her fingertips aroused her in a way she never expected from just a touch.

As she watched the other woman circle her arm around his waist, pulling him closer to her body she felt a slightly disturbing feeling enter her body. One she hadn't felt since the last time she'd seen this woman. The last time, when that woman's skin had been a few tones lighter, before her retirement to Hawaii. Jenny knew back then that she'd would be able get closer to him again, and she chose not to. But now, she felt that that was a mistake.

The feeling started to increase with ever y second the couple a few feet away from her stayed in their intimate moment. She wanted to stalk across the room, pull that woman away from him and kiss him senseless until he realized that he wanted her too. And that wouldn't be too long.

Jenny grabbed a glass of champagne from one of the waiters that passed her with a trey. Dutch courage. It had worked the first time.

At that exact moment, she saw that he excused himself and walked towards the restrooms. She followed him, discreetly. Waiting a few minutes before entering the men's restrooms. He was the only one there, washing his hands in the sink. He looked up and in the mirror, she noticed the surprise on his face when he saw her there.

She didn't give him the time to ask unnecessary questions, while he turned around and opened his mouth to greet her, she'd closed the distance between them, pushing him against the sink and covering his lips with hers in a fierce kiss. At first, she was the only one participating, but only seconds later, he returned her kiss with the same fire, tongues dueling for dominance. Just like they used to do, and lately only had gotten to do in their verbal duels. Roughly she ran her hands through his hair, tugging his head even closer. Finally she felt his hands leave her waist, one travelling up her spine, the other in the opposite direction, resting on her ass and kneading the flesh.

She smiled against his lips. God was she glad that she'd done this.

**E****go** _In Freud's theory, a set of reactions that try to reconcile the id's blind pleasure strivings with the demands of reality. These lead to the emergence of various skills and __capacities that eventually become a system that can look at itself—an "I."_

For a while, she was unable to form any coherent thought. Being with him, here, like this was something she never could resist. Somehow she always lost herself in their kisses, losing every sense of time and thought. He'd taken advantage of that before. Years ago, in Serbia, Marseilles, Paris.. and in Positano. Every single time he'd taken advantage of his knowledge. Advantage of the effect he had on her.

Not that she resisted.

And even if this was something she'd initiated, she knew one of them had to stop them. They were in a public place, anyone was able to walk in at any moment. They were lucky no one had until now.

With great difficulty, she recreated the distance between them. Making sure she was out of arms length . She saw his eyes, darkened by arousal and she knew that if she looked in the mirror beside him, she'd see that same look in her own eyes.

Both were breathing heavily, their little session hadn't allowed either of them much time to fill their lungs with air.

"We shouldn't be doing this."

It were the only words spoken, and if you asked her later, she wasn't sure which one of them uttered those words first. She did know that she was the first to leave. Quickly ducking into the ladies restrooms, to make herself presentable again.

**S****uper** **ego** _In Freud's theory, reaction patterns that emerge from within the ego, represent the internalized rules of society, and come to control the ego by punishment with guilt._

They hadn't talked since that particular night, the shame had finally settled in after they had returned from the restrooms. She'd returned to the room with slightly mussed up hair, luckily she'd been able to restore most of her makeup. She had watched as he was greeted by the other woman, the happy look on her face made another part of her twinge, and guilt started to settle in. And that guilt had changed into shame in the days that followed that night. She never stayed around to see what happened next, she'd quickly excused herself and went back home. Taking a hot shower was the only thing on her mind.

She'd tried to scrub off the feeling of his hands on her body, she knew that they would haunt her for a really long time if she didn't. She tried and tried, scrubbed until her skin turned red, and still she could feel the places his fingers had travelled, the places his lips had been. And even days later, she could swear she could still feel his last kiss on her lips.

The internal gossip mill had told her that they had called it quits, again. And that she'd returned to Hawaii, for good this time.

She had a feeling that she had been one of the subjects of their last fight.

Hollis was many things, but not a stupid woman.

The last week she'd hidden away in her office, all the contact she'd had with him went through Cynthia. It was his turn now, she wasn't going to take advantage of the situation, slide in after Hollis just left. It wasn't right.

Her gut told her that.

After seven days, she still hadn't seen him and she'd become slightly worried. Worried that he'd changed his mind about them. Worried that he wouldn't give them another chance. Worried that she'd ruined it by going after him that night.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Come in."

At first, an arm with two coffeecups entered, and a tad later, his head peeked around the corner. She smiled, welcoming him in. He returned her smile and handed her a cup of coffee. As he handed it to her, their fingers brushed, small tingles travelled from her arm to her stomach. And there was a small shot of warmth that spread through her entire body.

She noticed from his look that he'd had a similar reaction to their touch. And then she knew for sure.

Following her instincts had been a great idea.

----

All the definitions are from Gleitman's book _Psychology_, (ed. 2007). **_(I think)_**


End file.
